


“You’re being an awfully bad boy.”

by goth_on_ham



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Caning, Hypnotism, M/M, Non-Consensual Spanking, Sadism, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 18:42:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8764627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goth_on_ham/pseuds/goth_on_ham
Summary: Jervis kidnaps Mayor Cobblepot and finds out his secret love for Ed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A short fic based off of a prompt I received. The prompt was 'You're being an awfully bad boy w/ Dom Jervis and Sub Oswald'.  
> There may be a second chapter where Jervis gets a taste of his own medicine.

“You’re hiding something. Aren’t you, Mr Mayor?” Jervis ran a gloved finger over Oswald’s jawline. The man would have shivered, had he not been so under Jervis’ hypnotic spell. 

“Yes.” His voice was quiet, but steady, devoid of all emotion.

The hypnotist smiled mischievously and leaned in close, the brim of his hat touching Oswald’s forehead. “Tell me.”

“I can’t.”

That made Jervis raise an eyebrow. It seemed that Gotham’s new Mayor was a stubborn chap. It didn’t matter though. He would tell him soon enough.

“Oh Mr Mayor… I can guess, it’s to do with love, isn’t it?” It was just a hunch, but one he was fairly certain of. Oswald was a bachelor, with no known romantic partners. However, there were hushed whispers about the way he looked at his Chief of Staff, and where there were hushed whispers, Jervis made sure to listen. Rumours could be so very useful in finding out people’s secrets. Even if the rumours themselves were false, they often revealed  _something_  that _someone_  didn’t want you to know.

“Yes.”

Jervis’ dark eyes lit up with glee. He had been right. 

“You can’t tell him how you feel.”

“Yes.”

“You’re afraid he will reject you.”

“Yes.”

“But something else lies behind your eyes too. Jealousy? Does his heart belong to another?”

“Yes.”

Jervis took a few steps back and then circled around the Mayor, feeling very pleased with himself. He was enjoying this little guessing game. 

“I’ve got it!” He suddenly exclaimed, full of excitement. He rushed back around to face his captive with a twirl and a bounce. “What you’re hiding, Mr Mayor, is your crime. But alas, you are running out of time.”  
  
The hypnotist caressed his cheek once more, and Jervis smirked a little when he saw the other man’s jaw clench slightly. “I fear that you’ll be uncovered soon enough. I think part of you knows that too.”

Oswald’s will had been stripped from him. He couldn’t react as he usually would. If he could, he would have sliced Jervis’ throat open with a concealed switchblade. 

“Trying to hide things from me, even now. It doesn’t surprise me that you are also hiding things from the man you love.” 

Even under Jervis’ trance, a part of Oswald that was still awake heard those words, and they stung. He hadn’t wanted it to be like this with Ed. He hadn’t wanted to deceive him. It was just how things had turned out.

“You’re being an awfully bad boy, Mr Mayor.” Something in Jervis’ eyes darkened and his smile grew more predatory. “Bend over the table. Legs spread. But keep your pants up, for now.”

“Yes.”

Oswald would never have agreed to this. 

Yet he had no choice. 

Part of him screamed in protest, but it was so faint inside his head, so quiet, that he couldn’t even hear it. 

While Oswald bent himself over the table, Jervis looked around the attic space he had made into his home until he found an item fit for his purpose. He took his time. There was no reason to rush. 

“This will do it!” He said to himself, swishing a thin stick that was about the length of his forearm. He had found it amongst a pile of stage props and had absolutely no idea what it was for. It cut through the air with a fearsome sound. 

Jervis took his place a few paces behind Oswald, a wicked smile returning to his face. Hypnotism was wonderfully useful, it stopped people from fighting back. However, it would have been nice to hear the Mayor’s indignant cries of protest at what was about to happen to him.

“Count them out, Mr Mayor.” He tapped the cane against his brainwashed captive’s rear, the unfortunate man having no capability to resist or even shrink away. “And when we reach ten… We’ll start again.”

The first strike and Oswald’s breath caught in his throat. Under Jervis’ spell he might be, but even then, his body couldn’t ignore pain. Tears immediately stung the corners of his eyes as the sharp pain began to blossom and burn. 

“One.” 

His voice made his suffering obvious, but the second stroke came immediately afterwards. It crisscrossed with the first and the tears began to spill. 

“Two.”

A third. A strangled whimper. A desperate ‘three’ came from Oswald’s lips.

A fourth, and there were sobs. 

“Dear, dear, Mr Mayor. We have barely started.” Jervis tutted. He was somewhat surprised at what a strong reaction the stick was getting from him, but he supposed that he had been swinging rather fiercely. “What number was that?”

“F-Four.”

“Only the fourth, and already you whimper and whine. You really are more easy than I thought to untwine.” With that mocking remark, his voice soft and sing-song, Jervis raised the cane again. He hit even harder this time, making Oswald howl, and the stick break.

Oswald gasped and shook, his subservience to Jervis forcing him to choke out the word ‘five’ amongst his sobs. 

The man behind him took little notice, instead he sighed theatrically and threw the ruined implement aside. “Wonderful. Now I’ll have to find something else… Stay there, Mr Mayor. We’ll resume shortly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I received another prompt, one for Jim x Jervis, and I decided to make it a part two for Jervis caning Oswald.   
> I couldn't have Jervis get away with mistreating Oswald so badly!

The first sound Oswald heard was Jim saying his name. He blinked, confused and disorientated for a few seconds, before he realised Jim’s hands were on either side of his face and he immediately turned bright red. 

“J-Jim!”

He gasped and stumbled backwards, Jim let him go, and he bumped into a table. He yelped in pain when he did, his hands shooting back to cover his rear. The impact reminded him of what had happened. He remembered it all. Every stroke of the cane. That damned hypnotist had made him count them out, one after another. How many had there been? He had lost count, he had been made to restart more than once because the makeshift canes that had been used on him kept breaking. 

“Careful,” Jim reached out and put a hand on Oswald’s arm to steady him. The smaller man’s mouth hung open. Jim was here. Jim was  _here_ , in the place he had been held by that madman. Jim had come to rescue him. 

While that revelation made his heart swell, another one quickly followed. One that made his stomach drop in dread and humiliation. Jim had come to rescue him, and Jim had seen what Jervis had done to him. He lowered his head in shame and began blinking furiously, his hands clenched into fists at his side. He would see that hypnotist’s head on a spike!

“Oswald.” Jim’s voice was soft, reassuring, and his brow crinkled slightly in concern and sympathy. Oswald couldn’t remember Jim ever sounding like that when speaking to him before. It didn’t get rid of the burning shame or the awful bruises that no doubt marred the skin beneath his pants, but he couldn’t help feeling comforted by it. “Don’t worry. I’ll see him caught and punished for his crimes, and no one will know what he did to you.”

Jim’s eyes, steadfast and honest, met Oswald’s, which had become wet with angry tears. He nodded. He would let Jim see to the hypnotist for now, but once he had healed, he would see to it personally that he paid the ultimate price for what he had done to him.

—

“So gallant, so noble, so very heroic, James.” Jervis cackled, having heard everything that Jim had said to Oswald. Jim sighed gruffly, looking down at the man responsible for brainwashing the Mayor. He had handcuffed him and locked him a cupboard. He didn’t want him to escape, but he also didn’t want Oswald to get his hands on him. He had a feeling that would end messily.

“Hardly the actions I’d expect from a man who  _killed_  my beloved sister!” He spat, quickly turning vicious. 

However, Jim was in no mood to humour his delusions. He had been over this already, more than once, and he knew that Jervis would never come to understand that Alice’s death had been due to his mad obsession. It was a waste of time and energy trying to convince him otherwise. Besides, that wasn’t why he wanted to ‘talk’ to Jervis before taking him in. 

Jim reached down and yanked Jervis up onto his feet by the lapels of his jacket. Jervis gasped slightly, but he quickly began to speak once more. 

“That the mighty James Gordon takes time to save wretches like that corrupt Mayor, shows that Gotham really doesn’t have a pray-“  
  
  “Shut up!” Before Jervis could come up with another little poem, Jim had dragged him over to the same table that Oswald had been bent over and forced him to do the same. Although, since he was handcuffed, his hands were behind his back, and his face pressed down onto the smooth wooden surface by Jim’s hand clamped on the back of his neck. 

Jervis’ eyes widened, he had to admit, he had not expected this. Yet, he saw Jim pick up the cane he had used last on Oswald from beside them, confirming what Jim planned to do to him.

“Count them out.” Jim’s voice ordered, low and gravelly. 

The cane cut through the air, landing on the seat of his dark brown checkered pants. The long haired man hissed sharply. He could understand why five strokes with such an implement had been enough to reduce the Mayor to heavy sobs. 

“Count them.” Jim repeated. 

Jervis made an effort to steady his breath and then laughed in response to the demand. “Oh James… Do you really think that you can make me do that?”

Jim’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he told himself that Jervis’ self-certainty wouldn’t last long. He struck him again, just below where the first blow had landed. He let the sting burn for a few moments, then, struck again, just below the second hit. Jervis gasped and tried to rise up against his hand, but Jim kept him down. 

“Count them.” He said again. 

Jervis ground his teeth together, a frustrated, pained whine escaping from him. He shook his head from side to side quickly. Jim rolled his eyes. Another strike, this one crossed over the previous three, and Jervis cried out loudly. 

“We have all night, Tetch. Save yourself a  _very_  uncomfortable car ride back to the precinct.” Jim advised, impressing himself by how level he managed to keep his voice despite how furious he was. Oswald had done many awful things, but seeing him so shaken, so degraded… It had reminded Jim of how he’d been in Arkham. Leaving him there had been something he had never been able to forgive himself for. He probably never would. He hadn’t stepped in then. He was stepping in now.

“You can’t make me!” Jervis spat, but his voice shook slightly from the pain, and Jim couldn’t help but think the hypnotist sounded like nothing more than a stroppy child rather than a fearsome criminal. The cane landed again, and once again, Jervis cried out. 

Jim was beginning to think that they would be here for some time, but when the sixth cut of the cane landed, the implement broke in two. Jim sighed in frustration.  _That_  explained the collection of broken canes strewn about the floor. 

Despite the tears that had began to collect in his eyes, Jervis giggled. “Well then, James. Looks like I win this little ga- Urk!”

Jim wasn’t done. While there were no more sticks to use as implements, that didn’t mean that he was about to let Jervis off before he had paid him back in full for what he had done to Oswald. He cut off the other man’s gloating by grabbing him by the back of his shirt and pulling him over to a chair. Jim sat on it and pulled Jervis down over his lap. The man was quite a bit taller than him, so it was a little awkward, but that was hardly going to stop him.

The change in position, not to mention how childish it was, seemed to catch Jervis off-guard. He began to struggle as best as he could, although it was difficult when his hands were restrained behind his back. He kicked and Jim responded by putting one of his legs over Jervis’, forcing them down.

“V-Very amusing, James! I admit, you surprise me-“ His monologue, now somewhat stammering, was interrupted when he felt Jim begin to undo his pants and tug them down. “What are you- What are you doing?!”    
  
“You removed the Mayor’s pants, didn’t you, Jervis? Fair’s fair.” Jim pointed out, yanking them down, along with his underwear. The six marks from the cane were red and painful looking, but Jim observed that they weren’t as vicious as the ones on Oswald’s skin. Those would bruise nastily. Apparently, despite his anger, Jim hadn’t hit Jervis as hard as Oswald had endured.  
  
  “You can’t do this! It’s surely against the law!”  
  
  “Are you planning on making a formal complaint against me?” Jim asked, not believing for a second that Jervis would.

“You’re making a mistake, James.” Jervis threatened, his former playfulness had abandoned his voice, replaced by a creeping dread that Jim was far from done. Despite his stubbornness about counting the strokes, he had no wish to withstand any more punishment and had really been quite relieved when the cane had snapped.

“We’ll see.” Jim snorted, unconvinced. He raised his hand, landing a sharp blow on the upturned rear. It wouldn’t hurt as much as the cane, but judging by the yelp Jervis gave, it still had the desired effect. 

The swats were hard and fast, and on top of the red marks that were left from the cane, they soon had Jervis keening and writhing in protest. If it was anyone else, Jim might have felt compelled to ease up, but the memory of Oswald being so bruised, so shaken, so humiliated spurred him on. 

“J-James! I think- Ow! I think this is  _surely_  m-more than what I gave the esteemed- Ah! Mayor!” Jervis protested, tears now rolling down his face, Jim having long overpassed his tolerance for pain. 

“I’m not so sure. How many strokes did you give him?” 

Jervis whimpered in frustration, sobs rising in his throat as the smacks continued mercilessly. “I-I cannot be sure!” He confessed. Jim seemed to not take kindly to that response, and the slaps seemed to grow harder. “But it was surely less than this!” He added desperately, hoping that might convince Jim to stay his hand. 

Jim paused, and Jervis’ body slackened over his lap. He thought it was finally over. However, Jim was merely giving him a brief respite and allowing himself some time to shake some of the sting out of his hand. 

“Count them out.”

Jervis’ back stiffened again when he heard those words. He opened his mouth to protest, but any words he might have spoken were cut off by the harsh sound of Jim’s hand striking his backside. This time, instead of refusing, the hypnotist did as he was told.

“One!”


End file.
